Dream a little Dream
by A2MOM
Summary: Sleeping Beauty, starfighter style. Silly crack!fic with a dash of spice. Cain/Abel, implied Keeler/Encke.


Dream a little Dream

* * *

This is pure silliness with a touch of smut, and all the pop culture references I could throw in. Hamlet machine owns and created Starfighter, go read it on the web, and spread the love!

* * *

In a kingdom far across the sea, there lived a King and Queen who were beloved by all. King Encke was tall and dark, with a fearsome thug gaze and a six-pack worthy of Arnie in his prime. Queen Keeler was a former America's top model (season 4), with a sheet of shining L'Oreal hair that hung to his size 2 ass. They had everything a couple of wealth and power could desire—a garage full of beamers, a time share in Cancun and an onsite personal trainer—with one exception.

"Oh Encke," Keeler sighed, fingering the tassels on his snow white canopy bed, "if only we had a child!" He batted his pretty eyelashes at the king, his brow furrowed with deep lines of sadness.

The King vowed to speak to the court cosmetologist; clearly, that last 10k he'd spent on botox for the Queen had been an utter waste. "Name your surrogate, baby," Encke smiled kindly, sitting beside the Queen and laying a warm hand on his arm. "Britney? Beyonce? Angelina? Any one a' them fine foxy bitches could pop you out a kid."

Keeler looked at him petulantly, absently stroking the fluffy white maltese puppy cradled in his arms. "Couldn't you just buy me a uterus transplant? I hear octomom's done with hers."

Encke squeezed the Queen's arm, wishing the fuckin' dog would've turned off his baby-clock like the breeder promised him it would. 'Nother head for the chopping block, he thought darkly. Instead he smiled, and leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to the Queen's cherry-glossed lips.

"Stretch marks, remember, baby? Now, quit worryin' your pretty head about this kid business. I gotta go meet Tiger for a 4pm tee-time, then we'll catch up over dinner. Sound good?"

"Sounds good," Keeler sighed dramatically, and as his husband quietly left the room, he laid back amongst his cloud-bank of pillows, and fell asleep.

* * *

"Wake uh-up, girlfriend!"

Queen Keeler opened his eyes, giving a little 'squeek' of fright at the sight of the purple-haired stranger in his royal bedchamber.

"Guards!" he cried, clutching his down comforter to his bosom, but the glitter adorned stranger simply rolled his eyes.

"Chill, blondie," the stranger said in a lisping drawl. "This is your obligatory dream sequence."

"Wh-who are you?" The Queen trembled, admiring the stranger's jewel encrusted French tips.

The fey man smiled, capped teeth a dazzling white under sparkling green eyes. "I am your Fairy Godmother Athos," he explained, seated cross-legged atop the queen's dresser. "Or, your Sassy Gay Friend. Honestly, every girl needs one, don't you think?"

"Oh yes," the Queen breathed, staring at Athos' sparkling strapless chiffon dress. It was an exquisite shade of fuchsia, with matching Jimmy Choo's that went great with a pair of gauzy pink wings. "Are you here to grant my wish?"

"Wish, smish," Athos said, bored. He waved his magic wand, and a screaming bundle of baby popped into the Queen's arms. "I'm here to give you a rugrat, babycakes. Get ready for two-o'clock feedings and interrupted sex for the next three months. Ciao, sweetie! Be careful what you wish for next time!"

With a poof! of purple smoke, he was gone, and the Queen awoke to find his arms full of an enraged, hungry infant who loaded his diaper with a lusty grunt.

"The fuck's all that hollerin' about?!" King Encke yelled, skidding into the room and sliding across the parquet floor in his golf socks. He stared at the squalling bundle and promptly fainted.

"Congratulations, daddy!" the Queen cried joyfully, peeling the screaming baby's stinky pamper off. "Oh look, isn't that the sweetest little pee-pee you've ever seen!?" The baby promptly sent a fountain of tinkle all over the Queen's cashmere robe.

"It's a boy, huh?" the King said with a lopsided grin, rubbing the knot on his head as he picked himself gingerly off the floor. "Cute lil' fucker, ain't he. Whatcha gonna name 'im, baby?"

"Prince Abel," the queen sighed with tears in his eyes. "His name is Prince Abel."

* * *

Prince Abel's christening was held a week later; a media event carried by all major networks and run on a continuous loop on CNN. The after party was held at the Boom Boom Room and attended by everyone from the Beckham's to the Putin's to Mary Kate and Ashley. The King and Queen occupied an Italian chaise, smiling benignly at the lines of well-wishers and their lavish gifts. A trio of young men came forward, bowing genteelly, and the smallest approached the royal couple with a timid smile.

"Your Majesties," the pink faced blonde said, " I am fairy Baizin, and I grant the Prince the gift of beauty."

Queen Keeler smiled back indulgently. He'd been hoping for a pony, but what the hell? It would kind of suck to get stuck with an ugly kid.

The next man approached. He was slim and had pretty grey eyes. Behind the Queen's back, the King winked and held his hand up to his face in the 'call me' gesture.

"I am fairy Deimos," the dark haired cutie said, gazing at the King with heavy lidded eyes. "I bestow the gift of intelligence to the young Prince."

"What the hell?" the Queen muttered, annoyed. "Why does he have to be smart if he's going to be hot? Brains are for nerds."

"Thank you for your kindness," the King said, shaking the fairy's hand. When he pulled away he had a slip of paper with the fairy's mobile number, which he casually slipped into the pocket of his distressed fendi jeans.

The last fairy approached; a dark hunk with a roman nose. This made the Queen forget all about ponies and King Encke's outrageous flirting . He sat up smartly, sucking in his gut and tossing his hair coyly.

"What's your name, stud?" he purred, and was pleased to see the young man blush.

"I am the fairy Praxis, my Queen," he answered shyly, taking the Queen's hand and pressing a little kiss to his wrist. "I bring the gift of innocence to the Prince. May he ever remain chaste, and pure."

"Damn right," the king growled, and fairy Praxis hastily dropped the Queen's hand.

"Oh you are all so lovely," the Queen sighed, bouncing sleeping Prince Abel in his arms. "Who's next?" he queried, surveying the crowd. "Anyone bring a pony for my kid?"

Suddenly a hush fell over the crowd as an icy cool stranger appeared. He strode into the room wearing a pair of Gucci designer frames, a white suit worthy of Mr. Roarke, and a pissed off expression. The Queen gulped and cradled his sleeping infant to his chest in fear.

"Who the fuck are you?" Encke asked boldly, stepping down to confront the Aryan stranger. He checked his back pocket to make sure his glock was still on him. "Narnia's out back a' the closet, son, so you can march your white witch ass outta here."

The stranger lifted a pale plucked eyebrow and addressed them both. "I am the fairy Cook," he smiled nastily. "It seems my invitation was lost in the post."

"Oh crap, sorry about that," the Queen tried to plead, "Don't you just hate snail mail?"

The tall fairy shrugged with a cruel smile."Too bad, too late, kid's gonna croak when he's twenty-four when he pricks his finger on something sharp." He spun on his heel and laughed at the Queen's terrified wail. "Have a nice day!"

"Mutha fucker, get back here!" the King bellowed, but the last fairy had vanished in a cloud of smoke that reeked of Eau de Toilette. Behind him the Queen wailed and woke up Baby Abel, who also wailed. The combined effect was uncannily like nails on a chalk board, and the King cringed.

Another 'poof', this time purple smoke and the fairy Athos popped into view.

"Screwed up already, didn't you?" he sighed, shaking his shimmering highlights and sauntering toward the Queen on a pair of razor sharp stilettos. Fairy Baizin stared at his shapely legs and folded his hands discreetly over his crotch.

"Oh, hell no," the King snarled, standing between the gaudily dressed fairy and his bawling bride and child. "Not another one a' you drag queen rejects-!"

"This one's okay, sweetheart," the Queen said quickly, pulling him back by the belt loop. "Oh, Athos!" he sobbed, "did you hear what that awful beast said about my baby?! Can you fix the spell, please, I beg of you? And a pony would be nice, too."

Athos pulled his wand out of his coach purse and waved it lazily through the air. Purple fairy dust wafted down over the infant prince, making him wrinkle his tiny nose and sneeze, before falling asleep with a contented gurgle.

"A suspended sentence is the best I can do," Athos said, looking at the Queen pointedly. "Really, sweetie, don't you know it's bad form to invite only the popular kids to the party?"

"Yes, you're right and I'm sorry, but oh; what do you mean by 'suspended sentence'? You mean like when King Encke got caught with that underage girl at the Playboy mansion a few years ago, and the judge-?"

"Let's hear what the—er, 'man'—has to say, baby," Encke interrupted with a nervous laugh. "Don't go borin' everybody with ancient history."

Athos rolled his kohl lined eyes. "I can put the kid to sleep instead when he pricks his finger, until his true love's kiss awakens him." He gave the King a sardonic look. "Which will be a long time coming, big daddy, if you go scaring away every date he brings home, so ease up on the testosterone, capiche?"

"Oh thank you, sassy gay friend," the Queen smiled through his tears. He pressed a kiss to the downy head of his sleeping child's face. "Call me, okay? We'll do lunch."

Athos grinned. "It's a date!"

* * *

The next twenty-three years were spent in relative peace. Prince Abel was not allowed to run with scissors, and grew up a cosseted, beautiful young man. He wanted for nothing; private tutors, summers abroad, even his very own pony. His companions were the children of powerful men and international celebrities. Queen Keeler took him to fashion week in Paris every year, and King Encke taught him to hit an effortless par-three over water.

"When am I gonna get my first kiss?" he sighed to the Queen as they drove home from the mall one afternoon, in the Prince's shiny new jag.

"When you're older, darling," the Queen smiled, sending a text to the King.

"Mom," Prince Abel looked at her pointedly, "I'm twenty-three. Don't you think it's time you let me date?"

"Well, that depends. Do you like boys, or girls?"

The Prince considered this a moment. "I'm not really sure. It's not like I have any experience with either one."

"Well," the Queen asked patiently, "Who do you think about when you jerk off? The pool boy or the downstairs maid?"

"Mother!"

"It's just a question, sweetheart," the Queen smiled, tucking a lank of his long hair behind one ear.

Prince Abel chewed his lip in thought. "Well, the downstairs maid has a great rack, but I like the pool boy's ass better."

Queen Keeler patted her son on the knee. "Yes it is scrumptious, isn't it? But if you prefer men, I really think you should wait for the right person, darling."

The car pulled into the circular drive before the palace, and the Queen smiled sweetly at her son, patting his cheek affectionately.

"After all, men are pigs."

* * *

On the morning of the Prince's twenty-fourth birthday, the front door bell rang loudly throughout the palace. Abel hurried down the curving staircase to answer the door before the butler could beat him to it. He was expecting a delivery from Bad and he'd rather no one at home knew, especially his mother and father.

A tall, pale haired man in a brown ups-truck uniform stood with a discreetly wrapped packing box. "Delivery for the Prince," he smiled, handing the boy a pen.

"Sweet!" Abel said with an excited blush to his face. He couldn't wait to see if the Tentacle™ was as much fun as the Dragon's Tongue™. Just as he reached for the pen, however, his fingers brushed the fine pointed black tip.

A wave of dizziness swept him, and, his eyes rolling back in their sockets, he crumpled to the ground.

The UPS man pocketed the Sharpie ™ pen and gave an evil chuckle. "Sweet dreams, sleeping beauty," he said nastily, and vanished in a cloud of Eau de toilette.

* * *

Athos had just gotten in the tub with his favorite book (150 shades of Grey) when he heard Queen Keeler's wail of despair.

"Goddamn Drama Queen," he grumbled, plucking his handy wand (ash with a single Veela hair, nicely springy), from the bathroom rug. A quick wave showed him the distraught monarchs weeping over their lifeless son. Athos made an exasperated sound and quickly cast a spell to put the whole damn kingdom on ice for a few hundred years.

"There," he said, picking up his book and laying back in the fragrant bubbles with satisfaction. "Now, maybe I can finally find out what happens on page thirty-five!"

* * *

Several hundred years later, a lone starfighter was on patrol over a remote colony on the edge of 'Teron space. The ship's pilot, a dark rock-star look alike named Cain, was scanning the sensor readings when his exotic eyes lit up with surprise. Life signs, and a shitload of them at that; though they were probably too faint to be humans. He signaled central command that he was going to investigate, and cautiously approached the planet with sensors and shields on full.

"Jesus, I hope it's not friggin' Klingons again," he muttered. He turned up the ship's radio, idly singing 'Pour some sugar on me, hmm hmm hmmm…'

He landed his ship in the circular drive of an ancient palace that was covered in rose vines, their thorny arms winding about like a nest of deadly tentacles. He used his Phaser™, set on stun, to slice through the prickly thorns and strode through a wide doorway into a rather tackily decorated foyer.

"Hellloooo?" he called, hearing his voice echo off the marble walls. A huge, curving staircase beckoned, covered with dust that made him sneeze when he ascended the red-carpeted steps.

"The fuck is this place?" he wondered aloud, taking in the ornate woodwork and banks of dirty windows. "Some kinda old-time whore house?"

He entered the doorway to a huge bedroom and gasped. The life signs were evidently made by two sleeping people—humans, by the look of them, though with wildly old fashioned clothes and hair. They lay across a massive bed, holding hands as though they had fallen asleep while under great emotional distress. The first he approached was a dark skinned male, all chiseled good looks and a great ass packed into tight jeans. He gave the ass a little pat and smirked; it was as toned and firm as it looked.

"Not bad, dude," he grinned, gazing next at a woman with long, silky blond hair lying beside the dark skinned man. She was a real beauty, porcelain skin that had been nipped and tucked just right. On closer inspection, however—

"Well, fuck me sideways, if you ain't a dude too, babydoll," Cain chuckled. He let his hand wander over the shapely thighs and was rewarded with a breathy sigh from the sleeping form.

"Shit, too bad it's against my ethics to be a sleeper creeper, though I just might make an exception for both of you."

He wandered on, passing more sleeping people; maids in uniform; hell even a little white frou frou dog, until he came to a final bedroom at the end of the hall. It was littered with old-time video games and posters of scantily clad chicks, and a few buff gay dudes that looked like bikers. On a shelf above the desk, an iguana lay sleeping inside a glass tank.

Another sleeping form lay on the bed, head turned to the side and petal soft lips slightly parted. The slender male chest rose and fell with sleep, one fine fingered hand resting gently across a set of flat abs. The young man's t-shirt had ridden up slightly to reveal a tantalizing strip of creamy flesh, and the top of a dark treasure trail that disappeared mysteriously below the waist band of stone washed jeans. Blonde, tousled hair framed a sweetly beautiful face, and Cain gulped, adjusting the crotch of his suddenly too tight uniform.

"Down, boy," he muttered to his dick. Helplessly attracted, he sat beside the sleeping angel, letting his fingers trail over the contours of the most beautiful face he had ever seen.

"Goddamn, sleeping beauty," he murmured, "I wonder if this will really work?"

And he bent, and pressed a kiss to the sleeper's soft, moist lips.

For a moment, there was no response, and so he let his tongue tease its way just past the parted lips to taste what he really hoped wouldn't be several hundred years' worth of morning breath. With a sigh the other slowly parted his lips and Cain groaned, slanting his mouth against the other's, feeling his body go up in flames when a warm, wet tongue curled against his own. He swallowed the sleeper's appreciative moan, feeling arms wind around him, fingers weaving through his shaggy dark hair. He could have stayed like that forever but, unfortunately, they both had to breathe.

"Oh," the blond whispered against his lips, smiling, "Mom lied again. You're not a pig at all."

"Tch," he chuckled, moving to press kisses all over the man's jaw and throat. "Don't be so sure, princess."

"Prince," the blond sighed, arching his neck as Cain's mouth sucked at his quickening pulse. "Pr-prince Abel—oh!"

"Cain," he growled in response, moving to cover Abel's body with his own. He nudged the Prince's thighs apart and settled between them, rubbing his dick against an answering firm crotch. "Pleased to meet you, Prince Abelo."

"It's just—ooo! That tickles!" The blond giggled as Cain French kissed his ear. "Abel, silly, it's ju-just Abel…..mmmm!..."

"How much time have we got?" Cain panted, rearing up and started to hurriedly shed his clothes.

Abel stared at his body as it was revealed inch by inch. "Time?" he panted.

"Yeah, before everyone else wakes up; Christ, I thought everybody knew this story ?" Cain stood and yanked off his boots, tossing them to the floor. "We got time to fuck, you think?"

Abel gaped at him, eyes bugging out at Cain's erect cock as it sprang free from his shorts. "Um-?"

"Fifteen minutes," a voice said, and Cain jumped and cursed, grabbing his pants to cover his dick. Fairy Athos sat casually on Abel's desk, studying his nails. "I kinda figured this," he gestured with a bored wave of his arm to indicate the impending sex," would happen after that first kiss, so I built in a fail-safe. Your 'Mother' keeping you an anthro-obsessed virgin all these years, for Pete's sake," Athos finished with a shake of his head.

"Wow, fifteen minutes is really fuckin' generous," Cain snapped, letting his pants fall when he planted his hands on his naked hips. From the bed, Abel covered his eyes, whimpering in embarrassment. "And who the fuck are you, anyway?!"

Athos rolled his eyes, fluttering his wings. "I'm the Fairy Godmother, dipshit." He grinned suddenly. "Tell you what, boys; he tops," he jerked his thumb at Abel," I'll give you half an hour til Daddy one and two wake up and storm in here. You top?" he nodded his purple streaked hair at Cain, "you get fifteen minutes. Five of which are already gone. Ciao!" And in a purple 'poof'! he disappeared.

Cain glowered at the blushing Prince. "I don't bottom for anyone."

There was another 'poof!' and Abel's clothes vanished. Cain paused, looking at his sexy virgin dick.

"Eh, what the hell?" he tched, climbing onto the bed and nudging the astonished Prince out of the way. "First time for both of us today, I guess."

Abel beamed and quickly planted himself between Cain's spread legs, reaching under his pillow to grab a tube of k-y. "Oh boy! This is the best birthday ever!"

"Whoa! Slow down, eager beaver!" Cain gasped, as Abel uncapped the lube and squeezed some onto his fingers, rubbing it quickly to warm it. "Thought you hadn't—hng!" he gasped, when Abel's fingers slid down the smooth, sensitive skin below his balls."—Done this before!AH! Better let me tell you what to do-!"

"I _haven't_ done it," Abel agreed, penetrating Cain's ass like a pro. His fingers were long, and slim, and fuck yeah, they reached allll the way to the end of the road and stroked the place that made Cain melt. Within minutes little virgin Abel had Cain sweating and moaning like a whore and wondering why the hell he'd never bottomed until now.

"I've never done anything," Abel whispered against his lips, "but I watch a _**lot**_ of porn."

He pressed the tip of his silky smooth dick against Cain's loosened hole and started to push.

"Fuck!" Cain gritted out, fighting to relax.

"Yes yes!" Abel panted. "Oh god you're so hot inside, oh!"

He didn't plow headlong like Cain figured he would, rocking instead with slow, deep thrusts, his pale body smooth and firm under Cain's questing hands. Cain gasped and squirmed and tried really hard not to whine but fuck, if this wasn't the hottest screw he'd had in ages! Abel watched his face in wonder, both of them flushed and panting, sweat slipping down Cain's chest as the little virgin pressed snugly against him.

"Ah God!" Cain gasped, his dick trapped tightly against Abel's rhythmically thrusting body. He could feel his orgasm boiling up and he locked his legs around Abel's back, urging him faster, harder….

But Abel just laughed, soft and breathless and slowed his pace, winding his arms around Cain to kiss when he growled in frustration. He was going to make this last all thirty goddamn minutes by the looks of it. Cain wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry.

"You're beautiful," Abel panted, kissing Cain over and over again, fingers threading through his sweaty hair and dick buried deep inside him. "You are so sexy, so mmmmm, sexy….."

"Better than a porno?" Cain asked breathlessly against his mouth, letting his own hands caress the sculpted body atop his own.

"Better than anything," Abel sighed happily, picking up the pace again and Cain cried out as he leaned forward, shifting the angle of his thrusts just right, fuck yeah!

He fumbled a hand between them and started jerking himself but after a few strokes Abel yanked his hand away and pinned his wrists to the mattress beside his head. For a skinny little thing he was surprisingly strong, too.

"Dick move, Princess!" Cain snarled and Abel laughed, the little fucker, hips pistoning now and Cain's body tense and unbearably aroused under him. "Lemme cum, fuck!"

"You will, I'll –mm! I'll make you!" Abel was starting to moan, steady cries rising in pitch as his hips moved faster and faster. His beautiful face was screwed up in ecstasy and with shock Cain felt his arousal spike unbearably just from looking at him, making him shake and cry out, so close-!

Abel bore down and groaned, red and trembling and shoved a hand down, tugging just right on Cain's dick once, twice, a half dozen more times and Cain cried out, climaxing with delicious relief. He felt Abel unload inside him a moment later and the added heat and warmth made him arch his body, trapped and pinned and screaming as his balls drew tighter and he ejaculated almost to his chin. It felt like forever, or maybe he actually passed out for a second or two but when he fell back, sweaty and boneless, Abel was smiling down at him. He was flushed and sweaty and looked utterly content.

"Oh wow," Abel panted, his big brown eyes flicking toward the clock on his desk. "We still have sixteen more minutes. " He grinned and rubbed his nose against Cain's, giggling. "Have you ever heard of the Dragon's Tongue™?"

* * *

In his bed aboard the _Sleipnir _Keeler came gasping awake. Disoriented, he sat up and looked wildly about the room. For just a split second, he could have sworn he saw a 'poof!' of purple smoke drifting lazily towards the vent.

"Uhn," he groaned, rubbing his bleary eyes, "I have really got to stop eating Italian food right before I go to bed."

"S'matter, baby?" Encke murmured, and Keeler looked at him apologetically.

"Sorry, sweetheart; I just had an, um, dream…" He trailed off, biting his lip as Encke blinked his eyes, focusing on the sheet tented over Keeler's crotch.

"Hn. Musta been a good one," Encke drawled sleepily. He raised an eyebrow and rolled over onto his back, looking at Keeler expectantly.

Keeler considered the remote possibility that—"Is that an invitation?" he asked with a slow smile.

Encke snorted. "Hell baby; you ain't getting' back to sleep with that thing, an' I'm too damn tired to do anything other than lay here." He looked at Keeler, waiting.

Keeler pulled the sheet aside and rolled on top of him, grinning when Encke made a contented sound and spread his legs. "You gonna tell me the good parts?" he murmured, bending his legs up with a contented purr.

"I'd rather show you," Keeler smiled, reaching for the lube, and for the next half hour, that's exactly what he did.

* * *

Okay I did not set out to write this and it is undeniably silly, but like almost everything else I write, it just wrote itself. It was going to be Abel's dream but somehow Keeler woke up instead. I guess we can all dream about what a good time he ended up giving Encke-! Thanks for reading-A2MOM


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